Textures so beautifully sublime. Textures so horribly excruciating.
Decorated. Sloppy. Aromatic. Stinky.
Synaesthesia. Association. Memory. History. Imagination. Creativity.
Every morsel contains a story. A luxurious narrative. A simple note.
Tendrils spreading and intertwining inexorably.
The good, bad, and the downright ugly. Not forgetting wonderment and gratitude, so often delicately woven into comestibles too ordinary to warrant reviews. Yet, for many with sensory atypicality, the aversions are real, as are the struggles. And for others, there is just no food. Or not enough. I am grateful that I eat. I am also mindful of my own sensory attractions and aversions. My interest in food in its complete resplendent glory emerges from this multi sensory, multidimensional engagement.
Go ahead and photograph your food. Capture in the visual as much of the sensorial richness as you possibly can. Make no apologies for food obsession. I don’t.
Dogly. Full of dogliness. Thinking of my friend Rick, as I tuck in. Thanks for the noshful souvenirs!
A picture speaks a thousand words, they say? Here are a few thousand of those words, in that case. And if you’d like more, then carry on reading… If not, it’s ok too. This blog isn’t an ego trip, really, so feel free to just enjoy the visuals!
I have been in non-verbal modality lately, but happily indulging in the pleasures of work. A beloved friend is moving house, and she has bequeathed a vast amount of material that I need for my upcoming exhibition. What blessedness! I have been sorting, touching, engaging with concrete substances in the sensory didactic, and being in that milieu is calming and pleasurable. However, at the back of my mind, the anxiety monster is reminding me that I have a lot of text to read, assimilate, ponder, philosophise, analyse, and words of my own to write. Semanticity is a cogent entrenchment. That is the reality. But I do my best to meander, skip, hop, and dance around it.
When babble fails, only then do we reach for our senses. Yet, many are unaware that our senses have been actively sending messages in a complex network of communication, regardless. Continue reading →
There’s a craze out there, all trendy among the youngish baking set, especially the breeders. Rainbow Cake!
Not a day goes by on Facebook that I do not see an instagram photo upload of someone’s most recent attempt at Rainbow Cake making, or a feed about Rainbow Cake classes etc.
I am naturally attracted to strong colours, sometimes even the strong, acid colours. I like my food colourful too. But I stop at the Rainbow Cake. No, thank you. The acid colours so popular in current versions of the Rainbow Cakes are fun in furniture, even soft furnishings, or decorative objects. However, when they all congregate together, layer upon layer, in one single entity that is supposed to be eaten, I balk at the visual effect. OK, I am sure it tastes marvelous, but I cannot bring myself to actually eat anything that looks like that. I am not sure why. The brain does strange things, and makes quirky associations. And while everyone is gaga over this new trendy cake, just looking at the photos, knowing that the things are supposed to be food, makes me recoil.
Happy Rainbow Caking, though. Don’t let me stop you! Here’s a link to a recipe at the fabulous Brit & Co site: Rainbow Madness (how aptly titled).
I moved in to my fabulous new art studio space today! It really is the most wonderful space, and I am ever so grateful to a number of people for making this possible. Everyone involved in the process has been exceptionally kind and patient with me. I almost feel bad that I am receiving so much goodness.
Why have I posted this photograph of a flattened and dried up spider, which I found on the floor of my studio space? Well, because it is a visual symbol of petrification – and represents my mental and emotional state after a particularly strange encounter. Continue reading →
I love my huge window. It runs across the entire front wall of the tiny weeny studio. I get the morning sun full on, and even in the afternoon, it remains very bright. I like sitting by the window in my vintage chair, curtains wide open, feet up on the foot of the bed, and reading my book.
One thing about large windows and good lighting, though, is that they serve dual purposes. Looking out, and looking in. As much as I love sitting by the window, looking out and enjoying the view, the observed can also well become the observer in this two way performance.
Yesterday, as I sat there reading, I glanced down into the road for a moment to rest my eyes, and I saw this guy standing across the road and taking a photograph of me.
Life performing art, and art performing life? An interesting thought came into my mind – who is observing who, and what are we each ‘seeing’? I began to wonder… is it possible to find a way to plant a video camera across the road somewhere, and take some footage of me inside my fish bowl, a few minutes a day?
I didn’t have my camera at hand, and so this photo of my voyeur was taken using my iPad 2 – the camera in the iPad 2 is grainy and really just substandard. He stopped photographing me when he realized I was photographing him back, and sauntered away with a sheepish look on his face. Yet… I wonder what he ‘saw’ to have stopped there and decided that the funny looking figure by the window was photo worthy?